The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Right, well whatever colour it is, it’ll do,’ he said bad-temperedly, buttoning it right up to its highest point when he caught Eudora’s eyes travelling hungrily over him again.

  Eudora held out her hand to receive Phantasm’s money without even bothering to look at him or count it, her bright blue eyes were fixed purely on the sight of Phantom unbuttoning his jerkin to reach for his leather money pouch tucked inside his shirt.

  ‘How much?’ he asked, looking up to meet her burning look and instantly cringing.

  Eudora giggled coquettishly, ‘I couldn’t charge my favourite customer! Now do tell me that you have better manners than your brother,’ she said with a disdainful sniff in Phantasm’s direction, ‘and keep your promise to come and have tea with me tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh that would be most pleasant, but I’m afraid I must decline,’ said Phantom looking regretful. ‘My brother and I have an arrangement you see, and it’s my turn to take Mistral out tomorrow.’

  Ignoring Eudora’s shocked gasp and Mistral’s horrified stare, Phantom smiled sweetly at her and quickly left the shop. He had barely taken two paces into the street before Mistral flew up behind him, incandescent with rage.

  ‘What did you say that for? Now she’s going to tell the whole village I’m some kind of tart! I’m going to kill you!’ she raised her fists threateningly and Phantasm swiftly grabbed the back of her jerkin, holding her off his grinning twin.

  ‘Oh come on Mistral, no-one will seriously believe her … and anyway, you deserved it for that terrible acting! Honestly! You’re an awful liar!’

  Mistral was still spluttering threats about dismembering Phantom and describing in detail what she would do with each individual piece when they arrived outside Toothe and Nayle. The shop was nearly empty now. Only Saul and Cain were still there, haggling with Titus over the counter at the back.

  Pausing briefly in her diatribe against Phantom to admire the shining butterfly knives resting in their display case in the window, Mistral followed the twins up the steps and took up where she left off.

  ‘And you can forget about me reading auras for you in card games because I am never going to do you a favour – ever!’

  ‘You weren’t going to do that anyway!’ Phantom snorted angrily. ‘Now will you please shut up, or am I going to have to make you?’

  ‘Oh really? I’d like to see you try!’ Mistral raised her eyebrows and glared at him icily.

  ‘No fighting in my shop please!’ Titus’ rasping voice called from the back.

  Mistral glared unspoken threats at Phantom while he smirked back at her. Phantasm sighed and strolled over to where Saul and Cain were finishing their dealings with Titus Nayle.

  ‘Armour is it?’ Titus asked in a slightly irritated voice, not looking up from counting out the money he’d just taken from Saul and Cain.

  ‘If it’s not too much trouble,’ Phantasm murmured and leant casually against the counter to wait for Titus to finish sweeping the coins into a linen money bag.

  Saul and Cain eyed Mistral’s fuming face while they picked up their purchases.

  ‘What’s up with her?’ Saul muttered to Phantasm.

  Phantasm rolled his eyes and sighed again, ‘You really don’t want to know, however I would suggest to Xerxes that it would be a fair bet that there will be bloodshed between her and my brother before the night is out.’

  Saul laughed and left the shop, grinning at Mistral as he went.

  ‘No troll skin left now,’ Titus said shortly, bustling into the back room and returning with his arms full of pieces of armour made from a dark, leathery material and partially encased in a bright metal.

  ‘What’s left then?’ Mistral demanded moodily, stalking up to the counter and picking up a piece of the armour.

  ‘Gorgon skin,’ replied Titus shortly, bringing more pieces out from the back room and laying them on the counter. ‘On the up-side, it’s more durable than troll skin against both weapons and all known spells and has the added benefit of smelling less distinctive.’

  ‘And the down-side?’ Phantasm asked, fixing Titus with a piercing look.

  ‘It’s twice the price.’ Titus stated baldly.

  Picking up a chest plate Phantasm examined it carefully, ‘Of course it is,’ he sighed.

  Even after putting down all the money she had left in her purse against her new purchase, Mistral still had to sign a piece of parchment agreeing to a sizeable debt to be paid back once she Qualified.

  ‘You never know, we might get lucky and get killed before we actually have to start paying for all this stuff,’ said Phantom grumpily when they left the shop with their arms full of slightly strange smelling armour.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re complaining about,’ snapped Mistral. ‘You didn’t have to pay for your jerkin did you!’

  ‘Oh, please not this again! I really can’t take another moment of you two arguing!’ Phantasm interrupted swiftly. ‘Let’s go eat.’

  Training Begins

  The weeks flew by in a routine of intensive training. As Barak had warned, despite it being January most of their training sessions were held in the outside Arena. Mistral didn’t mind, she preferred being in the fresh air and the training was vigorous enough to keep them warm. The heavy winter snow falls came later in the month, forcing them to use the huge Training Room on the third floor. The purpose of the vast mirror became clear when they moved on from unarmed combat to swords, using their reflections to check technique and stance. They drilled wearing full armour, taking it in turns to repeatedly practise attack and defence until they were exhausted and dripping with sweat. Despite Barak’s continued derision at her opting for double-swords, Mistral took to handling them quickly and swiftly gained the reputation of being a fierce opponent to work with.

  Columbine continued to be openly aggressive towards her, never missing an opportunity to antagonise her into a fight either in training or during their own time. Mistral’s fiery temper was her weak spot and she had been in trouble with the Training Lieutenants twice already for fighting with Columbine in The Cloak and Dagger. Golden remained distant and aloof during Columbine’s violent outbursts but Mistral wasn’t fooled. She was sure that behind the scenes Golden was feeding Columbine’s inexplicable dislike of Mistral for her own amusement. Phantasm explained to her that nymphs were obsessive, jealous creatures and she obviously saw Mistral as some sort of threat; though to what, Mistral didn’t have a clue.

  The worst of the snow storms ceased by the middle of February and the apprentices were ordered to clear the Training Arena of snow so that they could continue training outside, moving back to unarmed combat again.

  February blurred rapidly into March in a relentless cycle of training. One day would be spent on horseback learning how to handle a horse and a weapon at the same time, another day spent out tracking different types of creatures, then a day spent in the Arena doing endless training drills with varying weapons. Each dawn saw the apprentices already up, cleaning weaponry and tack, mucking out and grooming their horses before belting down to the Training Arena to begin another gruelling session overseen by Leo Sphinx or one of his brutish Lieutenants. The twins detested the unarmed combat; their slender builds made them easy targets for the colossal Grendel who never missed an opportunity to throw them around like rag dolls. Mistral was tougher than the twins from years of brawling with the other adolescents in Nevelte but she was no match for Grendel either. All three of them usually finished the day nursing bruises and dented pride.

  ‘I wish he would just crawl back under his rock or something,’ groaned Phantom gingerly touching a fresh black eye.

  It was a Friday evening and the twins and Mistral were drinking away their aches and pains after another long day of training. The Cloak and Dagger was quiet. Floris was idly rubbing glasses with a dirty looking cloth, a faraway expression on his ruddy face.

  Columbine had continued her personal vendetta against Mistral during training that day. Mistral had a black
eye and sore ribs from where Columbine had managed to slyly ram her knee in during a take-down exercise. She also had a pounding headache from where Grendel had then unceremoniously thrown her across the Arena and into the surrounding fence. She took a large swallow from her tankard and groaned.

  ‘Even drinking hurts! Just where does he get his strength from anyway? And what’s with the smell? It’s not as though he needs to be any good at fighting, he could knock his opponents out with just one whiff of his armpits.’

  Phantasm chuckled and quickly stopped, clutching his own ribs with a pained look on his face, ‘Half-troll,’ he explained and looked around quickly, as though expecting an angry Grendel to launch himself out from the shadows to defend his honour.

  Mistral sat for a moment and digested this piece of information. It certainly answered a lot of questions about his size and strength, never mind the smell – a sudden thought struck her.

  ‘Which half?’ she whispered to the twins. ‘I mean ... was it his mother or his father?’

  There was a long pause while the twins considered the question then Phantasm finally heaved a sigh and reached for his drink, ‘Doesn’t really warrant thinking about either way, does it?’

  Mistral laughed and took another long drink from her tankard before nodding surreptitiously to a Ri warrior stood at the bar, ‘What about him then?’ she asked in a low undertone.

  This had become one of their favourite past-times: guess the blood-line. The Valley was visited by a constant stream of warriors coming to collect work from one of the Agents. All of them frequented The Cloak and Dagger at some point during their visit, providing the twins and Mistral with an unending source of new faces for their game.

  The twins studied the unfamiliar warrior.

  ‘Definitely elf blood,’ said Phantom confidently.

  Mistral nodded and flicked her gaze onto another warrior.

  ‘And him?’

  ‘Oh, now that is a strange mix,’ said Phantom, gazing curiously at the newcomer as though he were a particularly interesting specimen in an experiment.

  ‘Looks like minotaur blood to me,’ murmured Phantasm speculatively.

  ‘Yuk!’ said Mistral, screwing her face up in disgust.

  They had long since whiled away an evening debating the various blood-lines of the other apprentices; Xerxes and Brutus were of elven descent, Saul was half-yarthkin and Cain had hob-blood in him on his mother’s side while Golden was obviously closely related to a nymph. The twins confessed to be half-sylvads, wood nymphs, but had uncharacteristically said little when Mistral had not spoken about her own blood-line. The twins knew that she didn’t know who her parents were and didn’t push her for more details. Of all the apprentices, Columbine’s blood-line had fascinated Mistral the most, mainly because the twins had struggled to conceal their contempt for the creature that she was related to. Gargillians were a vicious, water-dwelling race that lived on raw fish but relished the taste of human flesh when the opportunity arose. She couldn’t imagine who would willingly mate with such a creature and when she had voiced this thought out loud the twins had given her a funny look, as though she were being naive.

  ‘Most half-breeds aren’t what you might call “love children” Mistral,’ Phantasm had muttered darkly. ‘Why do you think no-one openly discusses their blood-line? Most of the time it’s a litany of rape and misery. Not a cheerful topic of conversation at the best of times!’

  Mistral had suffered his rebuke in silence and put off asking them about their own parentage until a more suitable time, which had yet to present itself.

  The door to the tavern opened and the two second year apprentices walked in. They had been absent from training for a couple of weeks, obviously on a Contract.

  ‘When do you think we’ll start getting Contracts?’ Mistral asked, looking at them enviously.

  Apart from the times they were sent out to hunt, she had been stuck in the Valley for nearly three months solid and was starting to feel the strong desire to roam again.

  ‘Soon, I should think,’ said Phantasm thoughtfully. ‘We’ve covered basic tracking, hunting, swords and unarmed combat. I’m sure we’ll get something to test our skills on before too long.’

  ‘Probably a knucker,’ said Phantom wearily.

  ‘I don’t think I’d even mind that if it meant getting out of the Valley for a bit,’ said Mistral longingly.

  ‘I think you’ll get the chance sooner than you think!’ Saul announced cheerfully and sat down next to her.

  They looked at him interestedly.

  ‘Nice black eye,’ he commented, wincing sympathetically at Mistral’s appearance.

  ‘It’s nothing compared to what I’m going to do to her when I get the chance,’ she muttered savagely.

  ‘Anyway, back to what you were saying,’ said Phantom impatiently.

  ‘Well, don’t quote me on this,’ Saul said, leaning forward and speaking in a conspiratorial voice, ‘but Cain said he overheard Master Shacklock debating with Master Sphinx over some Council Contract that he reckons would be good experience for us.’

  ‘All of us?’ Phantasm asked with a frown.

  Saul nodded, ‘That’s what Cain said; a group Contract or something.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ said Mistral, her eyes shining with excitement. ‘Anything to get out of here for a bit – and I might get the chance to do away with Columbine while no-one is looking!’

  ‘I wouldn’t go getting your hopes up,’ said Saul with a laugh. ‘Caleb and Cyrus will be coming with us to keep an eye on our behaviour. Apparently first years have a reputation for vanishing into the nearest village tavern on their first expedition out of the Valley and not coming back!’

  ‘So it would be overnight at least,’ said Mistral enthusiastically.

  ‘Can’t see Golden roughing it in a cloak on the ground overnight though, can you?’ Phantom said, looking meaningfully over to where the half-nymph was engaged in a deep one-way conversation with Columbine.

  ‘She’s training to be a warrior isn’t she? Golden will have to get on with it like the rest of us,’ said Saul with a shrug.

  ‘I bet she doesn’t go,’ said Mistral scathingly. ‘She’ll have a hair appointment or something.’

  They all laughed and Golden spun round to glare at them suspiciously.

  ‘When do you think we’ll find out?’ Mistral asked and quickly took a long drink from her tankard to hide from Golden’s searing glare.

  ‘It won’t be tonight that’s for sure. Master Sphinx is out of the Valley on business and he’ll want to give the briefing in person before sending us out on our first Contract.’

  ‘I hope he gets back by the time training ends at lunchtime tomorrow, I’ve got Apothecary duties,’ said Phantom glumly.

  Saul pulled a face, ‘Bad luck brother. I think he’s gone to the Mage Council, which has got to be at least a two day ride, and that’s if you really push it.’

  Phantom sighed and looked at his empty tankard dejectedly.

  ‘Another?’ said Mistral with a small smile, rising to her feet and reaching out for his empty tankard.

  The Emerald Forests

  Master Sphinx had still not returned by the following morning. The apprentices were distracted during their Saturday morning training session, looking up eagerly every time they heard a horse approaching from the North Gate. Caleb was beginning to lose his temper with them all but the final straw came when Brutus fired his crossbow randomly and sent a bolt flying over the Training Lieutenant’s head.

  ‘I don’t know what planet you lot are on today but if you don’t pay attention to what you’re supposed to be doing I’ll have you all on punishment detail!’ Caleb bellowed furiously.

  ‘I’ll take it if it gets me out of Apothecary duties,’ muttered Phantom, looking depressed.

  ‘Believe me punishment detail is worse,’ Mistral muttered back. ‘I had two days’ worth for fighting with Columbine in The Cloak and Dagger last month. I had to muck out the pigs
ties in southern end of the Valley, it was vile … I smelt like Grendel by the end of it!’

  ‘Oh I remember that,’ said Phantom looking thoughtful, ‘You did smell worse than usual – ow!’

  ‘Sorry Caleb, I tripped and fell into Phantom,’ Mistral called out apologetically when he glared accusingly at them.

  After a hasty lunch in the Refectory of a soup with some rather dubious lumps of meat floating in it Phantom wandered off unhappily towards the Infirmary to report to Serenity Lightwater for Apothecary duty. Mistral and Phantasm sauntered back to up to the dorms, discussing how to spend their afternoon of leisure.

  ‘Saul was up for going out to try and rouse a spring bear. They’re just coming out of hibernation now and are really grumpy. It’d be a good hunt, want to come?’

  Phantasm shook his head, ‘Delightful as that sounds, I’m too stiff and bruised to go out hunting.’

  ‘We’ll go next week then,’ said Mistral. ‘Anyway, I want to hang around here and see if this Contract comes off.’

  ‘You and everyone else,’ said Phantasm quietly.

  They had reached the twins’ dorm room and turned to see that all the other apprentices were also returning to their rooms for the afternoon. Nobody wanted to miss out on the chance to go out on their first Contract.

  Phantom staggered in looking dirty and exhausted at the end of the afternoon to find Phantasm lying on his bed reading an ancient looking book entitled, “How to Make Successful Introductions within the Higher Echelons of Society”. Mistral was sat cross-legged on Phantom’s bed, sharpening her set of throwing knives.

  ‘If I ever seen another set of muskrat glands again I swear I will kill myself,’ he groaned and slumped down next to Mistral.

  Mistral made a sympathetic sound and carried on sharpening her knives. She’d spent the previous Saturday afternoon working in the Apothecary stores and knew that most of the tasks were stomach-turning.